When you picture your life, what gives it meaning? Do you feel that you have a purpose? Are you working towards fulfilling that purpose, or does anxiety stagnate you? Perhaps your despair hinders you.
Every morning I wake up and think to myself “Oh fuck. I’m still alive.” But isn’t that a gift in itself? To be alive, to feel the dread of a new day upon you. To wake up, lumber towards the bathroom for your morning cigarette, and to brush your teeth. That in itself is a special type of agony, but without it, where would you be? I could not brush my teeth, I could neglect the things that need doing, but would the despair be any less demanding of my action? I make my coffee every morning in a mug that I haven’t washed in months. I take my medications, I drink a glass of water with them, and maybe eat some crackers. It’s brutally mundane, the morning is my enemy. But then, I feed and water the cat. That is a passion of mine, a reason I wake up and go through all the motions of being human. I live to care for my little cat because she is the light of my life. Do you equate passion with purpose? Do you feel you were born with this particular essence, or did you choose it? When I create art, I feel the madness of the muses flowing through me. With every aesthetic decision I make, I also subconsciously discover part of what truly drives me to live.
While pondering my anxieties, I came to understand that what I am afraid of is my own immeasurable freedom within myself. I live a fairly lawless life. I can’t work, I don’t drive, and I only go to school 2 days a week. Every choice I have ever made in an authentic manner is one that I am at fault for. I am the sole creator of my circumstances, and that paralyzes me with fear. What am I doing here? How do I break through the barrier of despair that holds me back? The burden of understimulation is not one to be taken lightly, so what am I to do with my time to alleviate said anxieties? I suffer through it. Rather than wallowing in self-pity, I allow myself to feel every aspect of my anxiety. I invite the anxiety to wash over me, I invite it to dinner and a movie at my place. I talk with it, try to understand where it comes from. I interrogate it aggressively, and then I apologize. After all, anxiety means well. It means to keep you safe and protected in healthy doses.
If there is truly no meaning to life, if g-d is here just as an observer and not a proactive essential force that drives us, shouldn’t we put our everything into giving this life purpose? To find meaning not just in the world, but in ourselves? If we have complete control over our circumstances, why are we selling ourselves short by working dead-end jobs or entertaining scenarios that don’t benefit us? Why do we pour every ounce of energy that we have into things that we are “obligated” to do? In my mind, there is no such thing as an obligation. I am not obligated to do anything but continue to live, and even then, I don’t have to do that. Obligation stems from conformity, which is the biggest threat to our society as a whole. To conform is to admit defeat; it is the lowest form of living. Nothing screams “I literally hate my fucking life” louder than the desire to fit in, the desire to extinguish your own flame. The oppressors prey on those looking to conform. The outspoken minority of hate-filled people in positions of power are looking for those willing to commit to “fitting in”. They are searching for inauthenticity in its highest form, as it is easier to manipulate the directionless. However, if you are true to yourself and your beliefs, if you are genuine with your interactions and your choices, if you live life for the sake of living life and pursuing your passions, it becomes crystal clear where you need to be and what the universe is calling you to do. The power that all of us as individuals share is the power to embody our highest truth.
Something else we as individuals collectively struggle with is the feeling of isolation and alienation. Also stemming from our ultimate freedom and autonomy, alienation is the biggest threat to a community. When you start seeing yourself in your entirety, you feel alone. You feel a disconnect, you feel like no one will ever understand you or your situation. And that’s okay, because realistically speaking, part of the human condition is experiencing things differently than others. Maybe it’s true, no one will ever understand you besides yourself, but isn’t that beautiful? Understanding something so unique and intangible as your own being can be exhilarating. I had spent 24 years of my life feeling alienated and isolated in ways that harmed my self-esteem and relationships. It allowed me to discover myself more deeply, I got closer to myself than I could ever imagine, but at what cost? Is knowing myself this intimately worth all the emotional turmoil and reactive behavior? Was there an easier path I just wasn’t seeing? Would I have even taken the easier path? I think of how I got to where I am right now, and I have some regrets. Nothing major, I don’t have any well-defined examples necessarily, but would I have regretted making the opposite decisions just as much? In Kierkegaard’s “Either/Or”, he states, “hang yourself, you will regret it; do not hang yourself, and you will regret that too”. When faced with that, I question whether I truly have any regrets at all, and if living your life with no regrets is just as pointless as it seems. If you can’t suffer the consequences of your own actions, are you really living the human experience? What if I don’t have any regrets, am I not living to the fullest extent? If a salmon swims upstream with no resistance, what is the point? I think I have a lot of regrets.
Just some thoughts. If you think you have answers, let me know. Happy Earth Day.
Phrenectomy 